


Ideals of the Different

by Megraen



Category: Jamestown (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-23
Updated: 2021-01-24
Packaged: 2021-03-15 06:08:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,484
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28933794
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Megraen/pseuds/Megraen
Summary: No two people are the same, Jeanne Garder came to accept this when she had been raised in her uncle's household after the passing of her parents. She wasn't like the Yeardley's, prude and zealous, for she was accepting, deeming none below her, as her father, a brave and bold Scot had raised her to be.But across the sea awaited a savage world, filled with sickness, struggles, and natives. Jeanne would find a home she could never resist there, and people just as different as her.Would it be worth her very life?
Relationships: Alice Kett/Silas Sharrow, Chacrow/OFC, Verity Bridges/Meredith Rutter
Comments: 2
Kudos: 3





	1. God is Punishing Us

The mood was solemn that late morning as the ship swayed gently, more from the wind as the seas appeared calm for once. Jeanne watched as sailors wrapped the bodies of four young women in harsh jute tarps, bounding them with thick thread. They had passed in the night, silently without anyone’s knowing, for anything could have taken them, even the fear of marrying a stranger that was awaiting them at their destination, but now there would be four men with broken hearts, both from the loss of a wife and the cost it took to bring them here.

New waves of emotions hit her as the last body was tossed overboard. She spoke a quick prayer before facing her aunt and uncle. They both stood silent, her aunt praying and her uncle looking grim, as the total of women lost was now well over the double digits since they had set sail. How many men would there be waiting for women never to come.

“Jeanne.” Her uncle called to her. Sir George Yeardley was a thin man, his face full of harsh lines made him look older than he was, something he took with pride as it made him look only more respectable to those below him. He rubbed a hand over his thick strawberry blonde mane as Jeanne neared, her own fiery hair gently blowing in the breeze. “Take care of the women today please, they will be more unsettled with these latest deaths.”

Jeanne nodded. This had been the most deaths in one day, the highest before was only two, yet now with four gone after such a long journey, and with a calm seas hinting at a storm to come, many of the women would be on edge, fearing for their very lives. Jeanne spoke a quick goodbye to her aunt and uncle as they both returned to their private cabin, and Jeanne began to make the rounds, first spotting the young Alice Kett trying to comfort a retreating woman. Alice was a sweet brunette woman, always caring for others with her words, this had allowed the two to become close friends fast, but who’s to say that such a caring nature would allow one to survive in a land riddled with lonesome men.

Jeanne approached her. “How is she?”

Alice sighed, moving to sit on of the loading hatches. “Not good, none of them are. It’s been too long a journey and many fear they will never see land again.” She looked past Jeanne, spotting the only other redhead on board, Verity Bridges, snatching up some hard biscuits from a sailor’s plate, and giving Alice a wink when she noticed she had been caught. Alice tried to hide her laugh, but Jeanne snapped her head to see the back of Verity as she fled below deck.

“I could report her you know.” Jeanne turned to Alice, the brunette giving her a fake look of shock, causing the both of them to laugh. There was no reason to report Verity. Most of the young women they had on board were hungry, some even having died from it, so a little bit of extra food for them would do them all some good, as long as the little thief remembered to share. “There will be a storm tonight, so I’ll need your helping keeping the rest of them calm.”

Alice looked at her quizzically. “How do you know?”

“Seas are too calm, even the wind is going. Feel how the boat has stopped rocking?”

Alice took in Jeanne’s observations, realizing the woman was right. The ship had stopped moving around to how it was earlier in the day, and even her hair wasn’t being blown from where she had pinned it. “Four deaths and now a storm, God must be punishing us.”

“Guess I need to tell Verity to stop stealing or she shall sink us all.” Jeanne joked.

* * *

The storm had hit harder than Jeanne had originally thought, rocking the ship with such force, it held many off balance when they made an attempt to stand, and the ice cold water forcing itself though the tight gaps between the wood drenching them, causing the women to huddle together to keep warm. Though the women were down below deck, the men working above to ensure their safety were heroes in Jeanne’s mind. She looked towards Verity, the woman frowning as she pressed herself into the side of the hull to keep herself stable, and eyes squeezed shut to ignore the world. Jeanne stood from where she was helping a young woman who had been suffering from a panic attack only moments earlier, and glanced over to Alice as she helped another dealing with sea sickness.

“This isn’t getting any easier!” Jeanne yelled over the loud thunder to Alice as the brunette stood, giving her fiery friend a nod before turning to a blonde woman who was huddled off to herself. Jeanne took in the sight before her, seeing the scared faces that surround her of the women. “Mary mother of God, bless us women with your grace and protect us from this storm.” She mumbled to herself.

Alice coming up to her snapped her from her prayer. The brunette looked almost as grim as George Yeardley had earlier that day. “That lady, Jocelyn Woodbryg, I think she’s gone mad, she’s talking about having murdered a man.” Alice whispered into Jeanne’s ear, causing the other woman to glance at the blonde, still wrapped up in her tight little ball.

Jeanne kept a straight face. “Tell no one.”

She let Alice past her to go back to helping others, but Jeanne kept her eyes on Jocelyn. If the young Lady Woodbryg did indeed murder a man, it would explain why such a woman of noble blood would dare venture so far from England’s shores. Jeanne would have to keep her eyes on this Jocelyn, as no doubt that woman was going to be more trouble than she was worth to her husband and the town.

* * *

Jeanne opened her eyes, she wasn’t sure what day or time it was, but had only noted that the storm had finally finished. She lifted herself off the hay bed where she lay, only for her mind to go blank. She had been in the hull with the rest of the women before she surely let sleep take her. Jeanne glanced around, spotting her aunt Temperance reading her bible at the end of the bed.

“How long have I been asleep?” Jeanne spoke softly, not wanting to disturb the older woman, for multiple of reasons.

Temperance Yeardley didn’t bother to share any of her attention with her young niece when she gave a curt reply. “Not long. You came in here towards the end of the storm and collapsed into your uncle’s arms. He put you to bed.” Temperance finally glanced up, smiling almost sickly sweet. “You did such a Godly thing to help those young girls, you truly are a blessing to them.”

Jeanne could only smile back. She didn’t care for her aunt’s zealous nature when it came to being a Christian. Personally, as long as you did the right thing and treated others with respect, that was Godly enough for Jeanne. “Where’s uncle and the women?”

Temperance went back to her bible. “Your uncle is seeing to the captain, and most of the women are still resting below I believe, it might good for you to go see to them.”

Jeanne wanted to roll her eyes. Yes, she must see to them, cause as if her aunt ever would. It’s all worthwhile to act the perfect Christian, but another matter to be it. The fiery hair girl stood up, straightening out her green embroidered gown before leaving the private cabin. Her first stop was the hull that the women had called home over the several months. Most appeared to be asleep or either just relaxing after the previous night’s storm, and Lady Jocelyn now stood, looking up at the shallow light coming out of the tight gaps in the ceiling. Jeanne wondered if she was thinking about her words the previous night. Had the blonde regretted letting the knowledge of her sinful deed slip, or did she fall into the delusion that she had dreamt it all. Jocelyn had finally noticed Jeanne staring at her, with both women sharing a weak smile with each other before Jeanne left to go on deck, as she knew both Alice and Verity would be up there, seeing as they weren't with the rest of the women.

Upon reaching the main deck, she noticed her uncle looking over a map with the ship’s captain. Neither man seemed to realize she was there. Jeanne sighed.

“Jeanne!” A happy cry called out. Alice was waving to her from the forecastle, beside her stood Verity, who had a less than pleased look on her face.

Jeanne laughed as she went to greet them. “Didn’t sleep well Verity?”

Verity scoffed. “I ain’t got a fancy bed to lay on now, do I?” The Irish woman took a jab at her, before a huge smile broke over her face. Jeanne loved how easy going Verity was, the woman was playful despite her situation. While Alice joined up to seek a better life for herself in the New World, Verity was to meet the gallows had it not been for her future husband buying her freedom.

“Aren’t you glad, Verity?” Alice turned to look out to the open sea, her friends following her. “Aren’t you grateful that we’re the ones to come to this New World?”

“Hell’s teeth no” The Irish woman spoke flatly. The three of them shared a look before bursting out into laughter, only to be broken from their joke as a sailor from the crow’s nest called out to them all.

“Land! Land!”

The girls followed his gestures to spot a land in the distance. “I wonder if it would be anything like my Highlands?” Jeanne dreamed out loud, causing sweet smiles from the women standing by her.


	2. Of Spys and Men

Men had gathered at the dock as the ship came into port, each one cheering and clapping as women began to walk down the gangplank towards a bookkeeper, who would upon hearing the woman’s name call out to her future husband. Jeanne eyes off the men she saw before her as she still stood aboard the ship awaiting her aunt and uncle. The men looked scruffy and unwashed, clothes ragged and caked in dirt, but there were some men wearing finery which only showed their status. Those men would not need to buy a wife like the rest, one letter to home and a fine maiden would be sent to them. Jeanne scoffed at the idea of being married to a rich noble man, knowing that they would care more for themselves then they ever would a wife.

“Should I go down there?” Alice came up beside her, her belongings hanging off each side of her. The brunette’s gaze was stuck on the men below and Jeanne knew she was scared. Who wouldn’t be in her situation? Jeanne took one of the bags off her friend and slumped it over her own shoulder, jerking her head to the docks below. Alice smiled sweetly at her friend, sharing a quick hug as the two walked down to the bookkeeper together. Once the two of them reached the man, Alice had almost forgotten her own name. “Alice Kett.”

Sparing her a quick once over before turning to the ledger in front of him, the man looked for her name, smiling when he did so. “Henry Sharrow.” He called to the crowd of men.

The three of them noticed two young men raise their hands to the girls, and Jeanne nudged her friend forward. “Henry…” Alice spoke softly to the elder of the two, a tall thin man with a mess of black curls and scruff. Alice was pleased that he was handsome.

“Alice?” He greeted her, observing her. “I’m Silas. I’m to take you to my brother.” Silas explained, before his gaze turn to the other woman besides Alice. “And you are?”

Jeanne gave her friend a small rub on her back in comfort, knowing straight away why her friend was upset. “Jeanne Garder, I’m your new Governor’s niece.” Jeanne took Alice’s bag from her shoulder, handing it over to the young man with Silas, who introduced himself as Pepper, the youngest of the brothers. “I best get back to the ship, if I’m not there when he makes his grand entrance down the gangplank it’ll upset him.” She joked. Alice gave her a quick look of panic, but Jeanne knew to give the woman a hug of encouragement. “Find me if you ever need me, even if it’s to hide a body.” She spoke, causing Alice to laugh. Jeanne watched as her friend left, knowing she would be fine in the end.

As Jeanne turned back towards the ship, she noticed Verity walking away from the bookkeeper with an annoyed look. “He didn’t bloody show up.” Verity spat at her. Both women knew that this man was in for hell to pay when he eventually did meet up with his future wife. Jeanne laughed to herself. If Alice couldn’t take a man’s life, Verity sure could.

Jocelyn Woodbryg strutted past Jeanne as both walked across the gangplank, the blonde had dolled herself up quite nicely and even adorned her head with a fashionable hat, as she approached her betrothed. Samuel Castell was to work under the Governor as the recorder, whose job it was to ensure the accounts and town bookkeeping was well attended too. Jeanne had met him briefly in England before her journey. She knew him to be a kind and honest man, someone she knew that was trustworthy.

“Having fun?” George Yeardley approached his niece, guiding his wife by the hand towards the dock. “The sailors are handling our belongings.”

“I saw Alice off, Verity too in away, her intended never showed up.” Jeanne smiled as she walked beside them.

Before her aunt or uncle could reply, a gruff voice called out to them. “Let us be the first to congratulate you sir, on your appointment as our new Governor.” A man dressed in all black finery bowed.

Another man beside him, more colourfully dressed in blue also bowed. “And to you recent knighthood.”

George Yeardley sighed briefly. “I’m sure you will understand gentlemen, after such a taxing voyage if I escort my wife home, to rest and recuperate before we begin the difficult business of governance.” He escorted his wife right past them. “But please do meet my niece!” He called back.

“Niece?” The colourful man spoke, confused, before glancing back at the girl who still stood at the dock in front of the two unknown men.

Jeanne curtseyed to them both. “Greetings gentlemen, I’m Jeanne Garder, Governor Yeardley’s niece.” Both men stared at her a moment, unsure of the situation.

“Uhh…forgive us both, we were not informed of any niece joining our new Governor.” The colourful one spoke. “I’m Nicholas Farlow, I serve as Secretary.” He bowed to her, before gesturing to the man on his left. “And my cold fellow here is Marshall Thomas Redwick. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, my Lady Garder.”

Jeanne shook her head. “Just Jeanne, please. I am no lady of the English court.”

“Very well, Jeanne.” Farlow smiled at her before offering his arm. “Shall I walk you to the town?”

Redwick groaned loudly, rolling his head almost comically before stomping off.

“Cold one indeed.” She agreed with Farlow, taking his arm. “And that would be lovely.” Jeanne and Farlow shared a smile. She knew straight off the bat that the Marshall Redwick made his ill intentions well known, while Secretary Farlow was obviously more cunning, playing off as the charming man.

“So tell me dear, your name and accent, you’re from Scotland, no?” Farlow questioned, leading her from the docks towards the village.

Jeanne nodded. “Aye. My father was a highlander, my mother eloped with him after her father tried to force her to wed an English Lord. She was my uncle’s younger sister.”

Farlow gave her a sideways glance. “My, the humiliation your grandfather must have felt. And how did you come to be in London to sail here with your dear uncle.”

Jeanne thought for a moment. The pompous man was searching for answers to her being, but why she didn’t know just yet. “He and my mother later made up when he realised he shouldn’t have forced a marriage on her. And as for me being in London? My father passed not long after I became a maid, so my mother saw that the two us left the lands of Clan Gordon and return to London to be with her brother, she passed only a few years later due to a broken heart.”

“So with no family left you came with your uncle.” Farlow spoke his thought aloud, which earned him a nod from the young woman on his arm. When they approached the gates of Jamestown, Jeanne took a look inside. “It’s not quite like London I’m afraid.” Jamestown’s very streets were muddy roads, animals walking around loose, and the houses made of crude wood and stone. There was even men butchering animals outside their homes in front of everyone.

Jeanne chuckled. “It reminds me of my home in Scotland.” Her life in Scotland had been simple. She grew up in a small village, her family home more than modest, and her father would go out hunting everyday while her mother would tend to her small garden for vegetables. Jeanne never knew what luxury was until she had been brought to London, where she saw the great separation between the wealthy and the poor. “I thank you for the walk, Lord Farlow, but I think I may see for myself what this land has to offer me.”

“And I thank you for the company, Jeanne.” Secretary Farlow bowed to her. “But do be careful, this land is full of many dangers, from nature itself, to the native savages.” He didn’t seem to speak with any hate towards the natives, which Jeanne found interesting, and knew that he was truly warning her of this land. He trusted her it seemed. Was it because she had been open and honest with him? Or did he just see her a meek woman in need of protection.

“Until later.” Jeanne bowed a good bye before heading off on her own, doing her best to avoid the muddiest spots in the road, all the while feeling Secretary Farlow’s eyes studying her. Jeanne had liked the look of Jamestown so far, and she just knew she could easily make a home here.

* * *

It was much later when Jeanne had finally made her way to the Yeardley home after exploring Jamestown and its surrounding, having admired the fields growing crops and tobacco, she had even kept Verity company inside the tavern, as her intended, Meredith Rutter, was still missing. Inside the home her aunt sat in the main parlour, once again her bible in her hands. Temperance glanced up when her niece had closed the door, closing her bible ever gently and placing it on the table besides her.

“Thanks goodness your home, any longer and I would’ve had to get you uncle to arrange a search party.” Temperance lectured.

Jeanne sighed. “I was only walking about the town, I didn’t go running off into the forest or anything queer like that.”

“Good.” Temperance smiled, standing up. She went over to her niece, looping arms with the young woman and directing her to a small room that was located beside the kitchen. “Now it is small, and originally a storage room, but I’m sure in time you will come to find it homely.” Temperance smiled again, pushing Jeanne in gracefully.

Jeanne observed the room. It was small indeed, with a cot shoved into the far corner with a small table next to it adorned with a lamp. Under a window that faced into the streets was a dresser, and upon opening it, discovered that all of her possessions had already been stored away. She turned to Temperance. “It will be homely enough for me, thank you Aunt.”

“Well pray you won’t be here long, you’re of age and there are many available men here in Jamestown. Rumours of you on Secretary Farlow’s arm are already circling.” Temperance spoke, her eyes glazing over, no doubt dreaming of her niece’s future wedding.

“Now my love, I’m sure he was just being a gentleman.” George Yeardley appeared behind his wife, having dressed down from his finery’s from early to a simple linen shirt. “And besides, any man who wishes to marry my niece has to go through me.”

“Do you want a repeat of my mother?” Jeanne jabbed, earning a chuckle from her uncle.

“No.” He snickered. “No I do not. I decree you may marry any man you choose!”

Temperance looked at her husband in shock. “She is a child! She must wed someone well-fitting and proper.”

George simply took his wife’s hand and kissed it. As much as he loved her, he also loved his niece, and to see them both happy would be a battle that may never end in a truce. “She will marry for love, as I did. And Jeanne,” He turned to his niece, still holding his wife’s hand. “If for some reason you have to go out after dark, be wise, for the men in Jamestown may not treat you too kindly when they think you alone.” The Governors words held true. Jeanne had heard many stories during her time back home, both in Scotland and England of how men could be controlled by their desires, desires that led to the rape of women. Temperance gave her a sombre look, clearly fearing of what ill fate that could face her niece.

“I’ll be fine.” Jeanne laughed, causing her aunt and uncle to share a look before staring back to Jeanne as she lifted her skirt, showing the older couple the steel blade strapped securely to the top of her stockings. “If one does try anything, I’ll cut him.”

“By the heavens!” Temperance screeched, feeling herself about ready to pass out. George Yeardley merely smiled at his niece. She was without a doubt the blood of his little sister.

* * *

It was early morn when Jeanne awoke, the sounds of working labour already loud to her ears from outside her small bedroom window. She fought with herself over getting up, knowing full well that she did, as her uncle had planned a town meeting today, not only to introduce himself as Governor, but he had an announcement to make to the men of the town. Jeanne had a bad feeling about what was to happen, something aching within her gut. Her father always told her to trust in that feeling, as it was a warning for something dark to come. The Scots were a superstitious bunch.

Jeanne had retrieved her embodied green gown from the dresser where she had safely stored it the previous night, dusting off any dirt that had marked the linen fabric. She stared at the open draw, her eyes focusing on the small tartan cloth neatly packed into the draw that she had never dared to wear. It had been a gift from her mother when they left Scotland, so a piece of the Highlands, and her father, would always be with her.

“Awake I see.”

Jeanne was pulled from her thoughts, slamming the draw shut as she turned to face her uncle. George Yeardley had a knowing look on his face.

“I miss the both of them too.” He stepped closer to her, pulling Jeanne in for a quick hug. “Come and eat quickly, the faster I can get the meeting over and done with, the better.” George sighed, leading his niece into the main parlour, where Temperance already sat eating.

The three of them ate without any words, but Jeanne took in her uncle and aunt’s appearance. Both were dressed so finely, no doubt to show off their new ranks and titles to the town at the meeting. Jeanne wondered if she too should have dressed as fine as them, but nor did she have such a wardrobe or even the personality to do so. She was nothing more than a simple highlander farm girl, and always would be.

Jeanne tidied up the parlour as her aunt helped her uncle into his blue doublet. “I might take a walk around the town while I await the gathering bell.” She didn’t wait for a response as she rushed outside, seeking out Verity to see if her husband had finally appeared. Jeanne found her friend lounging on one of the tables within the tavern.  
  


“No, no husband yet!” Verity bit, sitting up to face her young friend. “Oh such a man he must be, to flee before I even set my feet on land!”

Jeanne sighed. “You don’t know that, he could be…” She was interrupted by yelling from the town square. Angry yelling. “That’s not to do with the meeting.” She and Verity shared a quick glance before heading outside, watching as Marshal Redwick strutted before an unknown gentleman.

“Meredith Rutter.” Redwick spat. The name caused the two women to share another look, Verity with a mixture of fear and disgust on her face, as her missing groom had finally appeared. “You are charged with slandering the Company, lewdness, and drunkenness.” Redwick looked to the townspeople that circled around them, before turning back to the tavern owner. “You are a reprobate.”

“And you, sir,” Rutter started. “Are as fair and honest as any Virginia Company man.” He beamed, clearly not a god fearing man as his words gained laughter from the town.

“You’re drunk now, are you not, Rutter?” Redwick’s anger starting to rise.

Rutter belched in response, gaining more laughter from the people surrounding him. Verity turned around, leaning into Jeanne’s shoulder as she continued to watch. “Sir Marshal Redwick, sir, I tried to be sober. I didn’t like it.” Rutter explained.

Redwick’s anger had reached its peak as the town continued to laugh. “You would stand here and mock this hearing? Huh?” The soldier didn’t wait for an answer before signalling to two of his men. “Then I’ll have you nailed by your ear to the post, for the remainder of the day!” Redwick mock laughed at Rutter as the man was grabbed from behind and head forced to the post. “Our newly arrived, newly knighted Governor, Sir George Yeardley, wishes to address us all.” Redwick mustered the townsfolk towards the town hall, grateful to be moving their attention off the drunken idiot that was Meredith Rutter.

Jeanne kept Verity looking away as she watched Rutter fight against the guards, but his drunken state wasn’t enough to stop them. She winced as one of the men hammered the thick nail into the point of his ear.

“Well,” Jeanne sighed as it was over, letting go over her friend. “We found your husband.”

“A drunk.” Verity sobbed, stomping her way towards the town hall like a toddler throwing a tantrum, Jeanne doing her best not to laugh at both her friend’s actions, and her foul misfortune.

Jeanne made her way to the front of the crowd, coming to stand with her aunt as her uncle stood at a hard wooden table upon a raised stage to oversee the town. To his left stood Secretary Farlow, who shared a brief smile and nod towards Jeanne, an action that didn’t go unnoticed by both her aunt and uncle. Marshal Redwick took his place at George Yeardley’s right. Once everyone, except the drunk Mr Rutter, who’s fits of pain could still be heard from outside, had gathered in the hall, it was time to begin the meeting. Jeanne smiled up at her uncle proudly as he spoke to the people of Jamestown, for none of them would ever be Englishmen again, as this New World was now their home, and with young maids to become their wives, children would soon follow, and Jamestown would flourish into a shining example to the rest of the world to what could be built upon these distant shores if one had a dream and a working spirit. It was then that her uncle spoke words that would ripple this town, for good and bad. He was rewarding the original settlers with land, each man receiving one hundred acres. While the townsfolk erupted into applause around her, Jeanne watched how the Marshal and Secretary both seemed displeased by such news. Jeanne would have to speak to her uncle about that later.

* * *

Once only Jeanne and her uncle remained in the town hall, she approached him with her thoughts on what she had noticed, the looks upon the faces of those who sat beside him, and of another man in the crowd, a balding man with a face of hot iron.

George Yeardley breathed deeply, his eyes still on the paperwork and notes before him. “They are not to be trusted.”

“Aye.” Jeanne agreed. “Farlow was poking me for information yesterday.”

“Did you give it to him?” He cast his niece a glance when she nodded. “Good, he seems to like you, something hard to gain from the man. Watch and listen. I will need your aid in ensuring that no one gets in my way.”

Jeanne smiled. So this had been the reason her uncle wanted to bring her along this entire time, to be his spy to his council. Marshal Redwick would easily dismiss her, while Secretary Farlow would be easy if only he thought she was eating out of his hand. “For the best of the town, I shall.”

For Jamestown she would, indeed.


	3. Sinful Acts

Jeanne stepped out of the town hall, her mind set on what she must do to best serve her uncle, and this town she is to call home. She turned her gaze to Farlow and Redwick, deep in conversation with a bald brooding man, who seemed colder than Redwick would ever be. She remembered her uncle mentioning this man the night prior. Edgar Messinger, the landowner of Jamestown’s plantation, and with that, he controlled the majority of the men who laboured here. It was then that Jeanne realised that it would be worthwhile to gain the ears of the workers, for no doubt they would have some knowledge of what the three cunning men, whom her uncle didn’t trust in the slightest, were planning for the future of Jamestown.

Jeanne took a deep breath before approaching the three men, an innocent smile present on her young features. “Gentlemen, I hope my uncle’s first meeting as the new Governor of Jamestown met your expectations?” She asked, casting a long look at each of them. Both Redwick and Messinger didn’t seem impressed with her presence, but Farlow, ever the gentlemen, merely smiled back at her.

“My dear Jeanne, his news happy news truly had us all surprised.” Farlow stated. Jeanne was easily able to translate his words – they weren’t happy at all. This meant that Messinger would no longer be the only plantation in Jamestown, and that he would even be losing workers, which would affect both Redwick and Farlow gaining their own profits.

Messinger grunted before storming away towards the town gates, Redwick offering a curt farewell before following after the balding man.

Farlow sighed, a tight frown forming on his lips. “I must apologise for them.” Farlow’s words rung with honesty. He was a true gentlemen, at least when he wanted to be. Jeanne patted his arm, reassuring him it was quite alright. “Now Jeanne, was there anything else I could help you with today? I could have some horses saddled, so that I could give you a view of the country side?”

“Very tempting.” She smiled up at him. “But I shall have to take you up on that offering another day. Today I wish to see to it that the maids have settled in alright, and that they have no concerns.”

Farlow nodded at her. “A good idea, these young maids are no doubt looking to you as the Governor’s niece.” His smile dropped as he tilted his head in thought. “Though there is your aunt, but she is far more aged compared to them.” Jeanne agreed. While her aunt was the Governor’s wife, she was old enough to be the mother of Jamestown’s newest residents, and her overzealous nature when it came to religion could possibly even push some of the maidens away. “But yes, you are more relatable to them!” Farlow smiled down at her. “I wish you good day Jeanne, farewell.” Farlow gave the young woman a bow before strutting off in the same directions as his companions had done not moments before.

Jeanne’s uncle was right to suspect those three men of plotting something, it was fairly obvious even to her simply by the way each man behaved, and by how two of them spoke to her. While Redwick truly had no interest in her, she still wasn’t sure what Farlow’s was for her. Jeanne shook the thoughts from her mind for now, needing to seek out her friends Verity and Alice. Jamestown was small in size, so there wasn’t many places the small women could hide.

“Jeanne!”

Jeanne’s eyes travelled behind her, seeing the young mistress Jocelyn Woodbryg coming towards her, her steps far more rushed than they should be for any lady of her status. “Yes Jocelyne?”

The blonde stopped before her, “Have you spoken to Alice?” Her words straight to the point. Jeanne eyed her for a moment before shaking her head. Jocelyn sighed. “Verity took her somewhere, she seemed rather upset about something just a moment ago.”

“What?” Jeanne barked, almost causing the smaller women to jump. Her head began to snap around the town.

Jocelyn sighed. “I think they went towards that horrible little tavern.”

Jeanne spoke a quick thanks to the woman before taking off towards the Tavern that she had found Verity in that morning. When coming here, she knew that every last one of the maids would be entering a new world, far different from the one back home across the seas, and with this new world, there would be a whole range of new customs and problems that the maids would face. But Jeanne wasn’t sure if it was something relating to Jamestown or homesickness that could have had Alice in tears. When she had entered the tavern, it had been void of any patrons, for they would not come until far later in the day, so that left Verity alone with a sobbing Alice, who’s cries only seemed to worsen at the sight of her Scottish friend.

“Oh, look what you’ve done!” Verity snapped almost light-heartedly to Jeanne.

“What I’ve done? Who’s the arse that has cause Alice’s tears?” Jeanne sat down on Alice’s left, as Verity sat on her right.

Verity frowned at her, casting a look at Alice who was still trying to get her sobs under control. “Her husband.”

“And the act?” Jeanne asked.

“Rape.” Alice sobbed out before Verity could respond.

Jeanne stared at Alice, who looked none more a child at that very moment. This is what her uncle had warned her about. While she knew some men, absent from the comfort of a woman’s body for so long could act out in such an ill manner, the thought for it to be one’s own future husband made the very Jeanne ill in her stomach. “You cannot marry such a man Alice, my uncle will see to it.”

“No.” Alice sobbed again. Alice could knew no other man in Jamestown would take her if they knew she had already been taken by another, and if she dared to return home to Norfolk, how could she ever face her family. “I must live with what has happened, he is to be my husband.”

“What if he has an accident?” Jeanne more stated than asked. Her friends gazed up at her, Alice having halted her cries.

“You would kill a man for me?” Alice’s voice broke, something akin to joy lurking behind her words.

“Accident.” Jeanne said firmly, silencing both women with her look. In truth, it wouldn’t be hard to arrange something of such an ill manner, after all, living such a life at here it was common for anyone to fall ill or be maimed, no man or woman was immune. If she were simply put something into either her uncles or Farlow’s ear about Henry Sharrow’s sinful actions, the men could come up with their own plans to dispose of the men, or maybe Jeanne could find something to taint his food or drink, after all, no one would question it, not here.

* * *

Jeanne had taken Alice to meet the Sharrow brothers outside of Jamestown at their new parcel of land, though she did not wish to leave her friend alone with the eldest brother, Jeanne knew that with the other two present, Alice should be safe from any foul actions. She remembered back to the women who hadn’t lived through the passage here, wondering if God had taken them to simply protect them from the ill fates that awaited them in Jamestown, but if true, why not just take all of the women aboard the ship, let them all be spared the suffering of their new husbands. The only woman in town who actually seemed to be happy about her upcoming marriage was Jocelyn, but she had in a way chosen her husband, unlike the rest who were marrying strangers. And what of her, would Jeanne have to marry one of the lowly men of Jamestown who would force themselves upon each night, or would her aunt hold true to her words and marry her off back to England to a Lord. Jeanne wouldn’t be happy with either, she would flee back to Scotland to find her own match before marrying anyone of English blood.

Jeanne had stopped in her return to Jamestown when she had heard the sound of horses coming up behind her, their steady hoof beats slowing as they neared her. She had spotted Farlow and Redwick upon their mounts, beautiful beasts of tan and brown. Jeanne smiled as they stopped beside her.

“Do you want to die out here alone?!” Redwick had barked at her before Farlow could have the chance to greet her properly, causing the colourful man to frown at his friend. “There are savages out here!”  
  


Jeanne smiled at him, almost tauntingly. “So I have heard, but there are also savages inside the walls.”

Redwick dismounted rather quickly at her words, marching before her. “What I did this morning…”

“I was NOT talking about you.” Jeanne snapped back.

“Why?” Farlow spoke up, trying to break the tension between the pair. “What have you heard?”

Jeanne thought for a moment, in truth, as Marshall, Redwick had a right to know if a rape had occurred, but at the same time, she couldn’t betray Alice’s wishes for Henry not to be reported. Redwick stared at her more angrily now, while Farlow only looked at her with concern. “A maid was raped last night.” Farlow made a noise of disgust at the news, while Redwick only began to pester Jeanne for more information, but she refused to do so, simply stating that the women was afraid to come forwards, afraid that nothing would be done, and also afraid of her future if something was.

“Understandable, but such horrible things can’t go unpunished, right Redwick?” Farlow finally spoke, causing his friend to look up at him where Farlow still remained mounted. Redwick nodded.

“They will know what fate awaits them for rape.” Redwick looked back to Jeanne, his words ringing clear in her mind, almost threatening her to reveal everything to him. But alas, she didn’t budge. Redwick spat into the ground beside her, turning on his heel sharply to remount his horse. Once again he didn’t bother to offer her a farewell before riding off back to town. Farlow gave Jeanne a nod, dapping his feathered cap as he did, following after Redwick.

Jeanne began walking back to town herself as she allowed her thoughts to dwell on Redwick’s words. Once the Marshall’s threat reached the ears of the men, she hoped it would mean a better future for the women who came here, and that it was also ensure that Henry Sharrow would pleasure himself before ever forcing himself on Alice ever again. But there was also the fear that it could anger Henry, that he would know that Alice had told someone, and that it had reached the Marshall’s ears, that it would put his life in danger, and possibly even Alice’s. Yet if Henry actually had a brain under that skull of his, that he would know that harming her in anyway would almost certainly see him hang, and that would be a fate he would rather see him fleeing into the wilds before facing it.

* * *

The sun wasn’t even up yet when Jeanne’s uncle had awoken her the next day, pestering her with questions about the warning Marshall Redwick had given to the men the night prior at Rutter’s tavern, making it well known that if any man were to rape a woman, he would see himself at the end of a rope before the day was out. George Yeardley was smart enough to know to question his niece about this, and smart enough to know that a woman of Jamestown had already been raped. Jeanne never felt comfortable lying to her uncle, owing it to him for raising her for all these years, but she didn’t want to see Alice hurt. It took a lot of convincing to make her understand that it’s up to the woman to come forward, and that no one, not even Jeanne can force her to do so. She made her uncle understand the fear that the woman felt, and the fear so would continue to fear from those around her, whether the rape was known or not. Yeardley had promised not to hassle her for information on the matter again, nor to let his wife know about the situation.

Jeanne made sure that when she met Alice in town that morning to let her know, but with that, Alice had news of her own. The two elders Sharrow brothers, Henry and Silas, had left that morning to venture farm into native lands to trade with the Indian tribes, using a canoe along the river. Their conversation had been interrupted by the town blacksmith, a man by the name of James Read. He seemed genuine and sweet Jeanne, as she watched him enquire with Alice about the Sharrow Plantation, and even offered her a bucket, made out of an old soldier helmet. As Alice took it from him, the shawl moved, showing the man the bruises that marked her wrist.

“What’s that bruise on your hand? How did you come by that?” He asked, not taking his gaze off it.

“My fault.” Jeanne spat, causing them both to look at her. “Alice tripped yesterday, and as she fell I tried to help her, but I only ended up hurting the poor girl.” Jeanne lied, looking to her friend for clarification. Alice nodded, not daring to look back at James.

James could only look between the two of them, giving Jeanne the suspicion that he knew the truth, didn’t help with the Marshalls little speech last night. “You said that the two eldest Sharrow’s have gone up river to trade with the Indians?”

“Yes.” Alice spoke meekly.

“If that is all Master Read, we need to be going.” Jeanne pulled Alice away before James had a chance to enquire any further, leading the girl towards the tavern to seek out Verity, who had failed to meet them both outside the town hall like planned. 

“Jeanne.” Alice started. “Something happened after you left yesterday me the Sharrows.” Alice’s words caused the redhead to stop walking, an anger filled gaze consuming the Scot’s face. “Not Henry. It was Farlow and the Marshall.” This got Jeanne’s attention, and it was just the sort of news her uncle was counting on her to acquire. Jeanne signalled for her to continue. “Well Silas has to sell his lands to Massinger, in order to pay of Henry’s debt for buying my passage.”

“Alice, have you told anyone else?” Jeanne asked. The brunette shook her head. “Good. Keep it that way, I shall see to this matter being handled.”

“How…?” Alice began, but was silenced by a hand from Jeanne. She nodded. Alice had come to learn very quickly from her time aboard the boat with Jeanne that she was a stubborn woman that no one should mess with. Alice wasn’t sure if this was the girl’s Scottish upbringing, her personality, or just the confidence of having one’s uncle being a Knighted Governor. Maybe all three. Alice thought on herself, while she always had a caring nature to herself, sometimes she was still a timid farm girl with no knowledge of the world outside her fields.

The tavern was dead quiet when both girls arrived, finding only the remains of last night’s drunken events by the men. But to one corner sat Meredith Rutter, slouched against a wall in only his shirt, just long enough to cover his shame.

“Rutter.” Jeanne spoke and kicked the sole of one of his bare feet as Alice tried to look away from the scene before her.

“Ah!” Rutter jolted awake. “Verity!” He bellowed, before noticing the two women before him. “She’s gone!”

“What!” Alice shrieked, running to one of the back rooms to check for her friend.

Jeanne sighed, rubbing at her temples. That woman is a living curse upon she meets. “Well she’s taken your clothes Rutter, so I guess she is trying to disguise herself?” Jeanne looked to Alice who came out form the backroom, shaking her head, confirming the Irish woman had fled Jamestown.

“Where will she go, Meredith?” Alice asked the tavern owner.

He scoffed from his place on the floor. Where could the devil woman go, there was nowhere he thought, only place she could even try to go now that the ship had left port was Berkeley Town out west, but there is no way she would be such a foolish woman to make the journey, not when there are wild beasts and the native to worry about. He told this to the two woman. The brunette was in a panic, while the red head next to her was contemplating the situation calmly.

“Mistress Kett, Mistress Garder.” Rutter spoke, in a pitiful tone. “Out of the kindness of both your hearts…could you…uh…”

“We’ll find her.” Alice attempted to finish for him.

“Could you pass me an ale?”

Jeanne and Alice shared a look. Alice left the tavern without even giving the poor man another look, but Jeanne made sure to pick up a still somewhat full cup on ale, and dump it over the man’s head before going after Alice. She found her friend speaking to the youngest Sharrow brother, Pepper, by the blacksmiths station, asking him for directions to Berkeley Town, directions he wasn’t willing to give. Both girls implored him to tell them, and after a moment he did. West, following the river.


	4. Seeds in the Dirt

Jeanne wasn’t sure how long it had been since they left Jamestown, or even how far they had gotten, but they had still had yet to find Verity, even with both of them calling for the girl. She was either far ahead of them, or simply refusing to let them find her. All around them was dense forest and marshland, and bugs, lot and lots of bugs. The Scottish lass sighed when Alice had called out for Verity yet again. This was going nowhere.

“Verity Bridges, you come out here right now, or God himself won’t be able to stop me!” Jeanne bellowed, her throat hurting if only for a moment. Alice stared at her from a moment before joining in with her own threats to their mischievous friend.

“Oh, this is impossible, we’ll never find her.” Alice whined, looking around herself in hurried motions. “Wait! Did you hear that?” The brunette stopped, looking off into a random direction. Jeanne walked closer to her friend, both on them listening intently. Beyond the sounds of bugs and birds, they two of them could hear a faint voice calling out to them in the distance, and it sounded panicked. Not wasting a second, Alice and Jeanne bolted off, not even concerned for their footing as they came across Verity waist deep in the marsh, the muddy waters too thick for her to wade through.

“Get me out of here!” Verity grumbled, her voice strained as she fought to move. “Alice, Jeanne, help me!”

Alice went off behind Jeanne to find something to aid with pulling the woman from the muck, while Jeanne kneeled closer to Verity, avoiding getting too close herself, all the while trying to comfort her friend. “Aren’t you glad you got friends who care enough to seek you out, Verity Bridges?” Alice lectured, returning with a long branch, holding it out for Verity to grab. Jeanne aided Alice in pulling Verity from the marsh, the soaked woman only grumbling about the new world they had form themselves in. She complained about the marsh, the bugs, and of course, her betrothed. Alice sighed in reveal once Verity was pulled free, throwing the branch away. “You have to come back, Verity.”

“A shit pants halfwit, I would’ve settled for. A one-legged, one-eyed, dog of a man, I would have found something to like about him.” Verity sobbed, pulling at the reeds around her as she sat on the ground, before finally turning to her rescuers. “Why did I have to be bought by a drunk? A drinker is a different man every day of the week, and not one of them is worth a spit of love.”

“Aren’t we?” Jeanne asked kneeling down to eye level with her fellow redhead. “Alice and I need you here. You may have a drunk for a husband, but you have us for friends.” Jeanne looked to Alice for clarification, who nodded, agreeing that she too would be there for Verity.

“I need you here!” Alice barked, gathering her shawl from where it had been discarded behind her in the race to save her friend. Verity looked away from her, somewhat ashamed as Jeanne helped her to her feet. “I was wanting to run to after what happened, but I had you and Jeanne here, to fight for me, but I’m needing to fight for myself too, and fight for the both of you!” Alice continued to bark, avoiding looking at her friends as she fought the tears welling at her eyes.

Jeanne pulled the poor girl into a hug, doing her best to comfort her. Verity shuffled her feet behind them, unsure of how to act, before Jeanne pulled her into the same hug. Jeanne held both of her sobbing friends close, each of the friends understanding the others pains. Verity had mumbled something about hating weeping, for weeping is only for babies, which caused the two of them to chuckle.

“Now that we’ve all settled, shall we return to town before all three of us are missed and a search party is summoned?” Jeanne enquired, gesturing to the path from which she and Alice came from.

“Search party for you.” Verity jabbed, jokingly. While a joke, in truth the Governor would most likely search for his niece before anyone else. Well, maybe his wife. Alice pulled on Verity’s arm for the remark, guiding her friend forward as Jeanne had led them back.

They hadn’t be walking for very long when Verity had asked Jeanne to slow down, worried she was getting too far ahead of her and Alice. The brunette had been kind to keep pace with Verity, knowing too well that she had been out far longer that her and Jeanne, and she was most likely tired from the journey and lack of food and water. It was when a wolf’s howl could be heard in the distance that all three woman froze, Jeanne looking back behind at her friends. She didn’t waste a single moment, telling the both of them to run. Jeanne took up the rear, pulling off her blade from its hiding place of her stockings. If a wolf got too close, she knew she would have only one shot, to slam the blade into the side of the beasts skulls, before it would the opportunity to bite into her neck. 

They could hear the pack coming up behind them, their barks and growls only encouraging them to run faster, each one afraid at the possible death that awaiting them. Verity in that moment tripped. Whether it was the exhaustion or the unfamiliar terrain, the girl went down, causing Alice to spin, acting fast and reaching for another branch to use as a weapon. Jeanne moved in front of Verity as she struggled to stand, her right ankle now in pain from the fall. The Scot stared at the three wolves in front of her as Alice came to her side, both acting as a wall between the beasts and their injured friend.

“Four.” Jeanne’s eyes widened, not taking them off the wolves in front of her. “I swear I had seen four.”

In a split second, before either woman could react, they heard the snapping of jaws as Verity was tackled from her left, going for the woman’s neck.

A shot rang out.

Alice and Jeanne turned to see James Read, musket in hand. The shot had grazed the wolf that had been on verity, causing it to return to the safety of its pack. “Don’t run. Walk backwards until you reach me.” James ordered, gesturing them to come. “Don’t turn away.”

Jeanne and Alice looked to the forest around them, notice the pack was gone, but could still hear their barks and growls. They were hiding in the foliage, waiting for the moment to strike. They joined Verity, following James’ instructions to find his boat down at the river. None of them hesitated. They ran as fast as they could down to the bank of the river, where a small rowboat was left tied to an old tree that has partly fallen into the river, Jeanne aided her friends into it. James Read was behind her, his strong hands on her back as he helped her in next. She took his musket from him as he got into the boat, and turning her gaze back the forest, watching for any wolf that may have been brave to come, but it was silent.

The entire boat ride back to Jamestown had been full of lectures. Alice lecturing Verity for running off, Verity lecturing her friends for coming after her, and James lecturing all of them for going out alone. All Jeanne could do was beg all of them to make no mention to her aunt or uncle about the wolves. They may never let her leave Jamestown ever again if they knew. While James was hesitant to agree, unsure if lying to his new Governor was the right course of action, but he did agree in the end, knowing it would cost the Scottish girl her freedom, something he knew was important to them all. This was a land of opportunities after all, and he, nor the women, wanted to lose them.

When the group of four had come stumbling through the gates so late in the day, all eyes were on them, but mainly on Verity, as word had quickly spread amongst the men when Rutter had been found by some of his patrons, still slumped against the wall in only a shirt, drowning himself in ale after ale. But Rutter now stood outside the entrance to his tavern, watching the group intently. He moved forward to greet Verity, glad she had returned, and not been caught by the Marshall’s men.

“I’m not marrying a man would gamble me away on the roll of a dice.” Verity spat, glaring at her betrothed from mere feet away. Alice and Jeanne shared a look of shock. No one had passed that little bit of information onto them.

Rutter held his hands up in a surrender. “Woman, when I drink beyond me senses, there isn’t no logic left in me. Except one corner of the mind where cunning abides. But that little devil of thinking never deserts me. But it’s like heavenly angel taking care of me and that’s why I gamble. Do you suppose I’m some kind of fool? I paid for your passage. I like the look o’ you. Did you think I’m gonna let some old lechering sailor get his hands on you? If I thought I was gonna lose that bet, I would never had made it” he came to stand before Verity, as she continued to look upon him with malice.

Jeanne scoffed, having realised what he was getting at. “He was planning to cheat, Verity.” The girl explained to her fellow redhead, who didn’t seem to be understanding what the drunkard was hinting at. Verity stared back at Jeanne for a moment, unsure of how to respond before turning back to Rutter

“You let me believe I was to marry a man would sell me…” Verity stepped towards him, ice in her words. She slapped him, hard against his bad left ear, when he failed to give her a response. The crowds of men laughed around them, everyone watching Verity stalk back into the tavern. Even Jeanne and Alice found themselves chuckling at what they had witnessed.

“Oh, she will bring damnation upon him.” Jeanne joked, earning an agreeable sound from both Alice and James. Jeanne looked behind her, noticing that the town Reverend had been watching the event as well, but the look on his face was full of scorn compared to the joy of other onlookers.

“I think I’ve got myself a good wife!” Rutter bellowed happily, despite the embarrassment he felt, and returned to his tavern.

Alice shook her head. “I best got find Pepper. Thank you James, Jeanne.” She nodded to them both, wandering off in search of her future brother-in-law.

Jeanne watched her leave, with James leaving soon after to return to his station. She too decided to return home, having felt the day was far longer than it actually was, but as she neared her uncle’s home, she was stopped by Jocelyn coming out of her own. The petite blonde raced to her, grabbing her closely.

Jocelyn had enquire if Jeanne could be trustful, as Jocelyn had gained fears that day that could affect not only her husband’s station here in Jamestown, but also her own, something that no woman of noble birth would want to give up. Jocelyn revealed to Jeanne Secretary Farlow’s threats unto Jocelyn’s betrothed, Samuel Castell. Farlow had asked Castell to spy on the Governor, to gain information regarding his knighthood, and the reasoning behind his return to Jamestown. Why would Farlow seek this information, Jeanne had wondered, for what purpose did it serve him, and no doubt the Marshall as well. Jeanne thanked Jocelyn for the information, telling her that she would handle these matters, and to not get involved in any way.

With that, Jeanne changed her direction to Farlow’s home, to seek him out and pester him with her own questions. His lodging was on the other side of Jamestown, and was built just like the rest of the wooden houses, but the inside she found upon entering his home for the first time that evening, was furnished with only the most exquisite décor, as if he had moved his entire London home to Jamestown. Farlow after all was a man of taste and status.

He had eyed her from his small dining table, a wine goblet in hand as he obviously indulged himself after a busy day of scheming. “Jeanne, you look dreadful.” He gestured to her hem of her green gown, covered in muck from the marshlands. “Wine?” He stood up, not waiting for a response as he poured her a glass.

“Thank you.” Jeanne smiled, placing herself opposite of where he had been sitting. When he returned, he placed the goblet into her hand. “I found myself in the marshes today, hunting down a wayward Irish woman.”

“Verity Bridges? Yes, I heard about her take off from the Marshall. He didn’t care to act.” Farlow sighed, but Jeanne could tell he was putting it on for her sake. “Now, why did you come to see me?” He asked, bring his wine back to his lips.

Jeanne took a small sip of her own, letting it savour in her mouth as she thought on her words. “I understand you’re curious about my uncle’s knighthood.” The statement caused the man to choke briefly, no doubt caught off by her words. “I could tell you.”

Farlow studied her, and she him. Jeanne was truly an enigma to the man, after all, she was nothing more than a Scottish farm girl, who happened to have the luck of powerful and wealthy relatives, and yet she appeared before him as a woman who had been raised in the heart of court life. Had it been her mother’s doing, or maybe the girl was just born for it. Farlow clicked his tongue against his teeth. “Could you?”

Jeanne smiled, taking another sip of her wine. “The King wants someone he trusts in power here, it’s simple.” Farlow nodded at her words. It did make sense.

“And want does the King want here?”

“What any ruler wants, more land…power. And control.”

Farlow thought deeply at her answer, leaving him to ask his own question. “And what does the King wish to control.”

Jeanne had to control herself from smirking. She was able to hook him, and reel him in into believing what she was saying without fault. In truth, she could always admit to not knowing, or simply plant a seed that could simple help out the Sharrows on Alice’s behalf. “I’m not fully sure, but I believe I did overhear my aunt and uncle discussing tabaco.”

“Tabaco?” Farlow enquired. “What were they discussing?”

“The King’s hatred for the stuff.” Jeanne stated innocently. “Maybe he’ll ban the sale of it.”

* * *

When Jeanne had returned home after her small chat with Farlow, she laid everything before her uncle, out of the ear shot of her aunt of course. George Yeardley was smiling at what she had gathered, and the own false information she had planted in Farlow’s head. Both of them knew the fashionable man would share the information with Redwick and Massinger, and the three of them would then begin plotting. Yeardley knew that if he did ban the farming and production, it would be men, whom he had granted land to the day prior, would gather in a rage at the loss of possible future profits. But Yeardley would never do such a thing, he wasn’t stupid. He had let his niece know his plan to ban the sale and transfer of the gifted land, which would hinder whatever Massinger and the other two had been planning.

Jeanne smiled at her uncle’s plan, but secretly hoped it wouldn’t backfire.

* * *

The next morning, Jeanne was aiding her uncle with getting into his most formal outfit for the morning gathering he had planned, while Jeanne’s aunt was busy tidying up the parlour after breakfast. Her aunt had already dressed in her own finery, and had even offered the young girl a fine gown of her own to wear to the assembly, but Jeanne wasn’t comfortable with the idea of borrowing of her aunts garments, but instead dressed in a pale blue gown, while her green one was in need of cleaning after the adventures of yesterday.

Jeanne could hear the townsfolk gathering outside, when the meeting bell had yet to be rung. So what had them all coming together like that? She turned to her uncle as she finished fastening his cape. With a small nod of his head towards the window, Jeanne took his permission to head outside, there she found nearly all citizens of Jamestown circling around two men. Marshall Redwick and Silas Sharrow. Jeanne crept forward to come stand beside Farlow, who gave her a curt nod. They both listened in as Silas reported to Redwick that Henry had perished during the night, the canoe he was using had exploded in flames, taking the older man with it. Silas believed that his brother’s pipe had cause the fire, setting the gunpowder aflame as well.

Jeanne noticed Alice staring at her after hearing the news. Did the brunette think her a witch? While Jeanne did offer to cause an accident to before the bastard man, she surely didn’t expect that.

The Marshall began to make accusations of Silas, first about the accident, and next about just what the two men were doing so far up river into Indian Territory. Silas gave a simple answer. Trading for corn. Jeanne had heard her uncle discussing the food storages with Master Castell just nights prior, and she knew there was plenty of corn, so why go to trade for it. It didn’t add up, and the Marshall knew it. And from the way James Read was looking at Silas, he knew it to.

“Enough of that, can’t you see he’s grieving.” Jeanne interjected, pushing Silas towards Alice and he’s young brother Pepper, who was fighting the tears now poling in his eyes. “Master Castell shall handle the matter later.” She turned to Redwick, who was eyeing her off in a way she wasn’t certain of, almost suspicion, but there was something else she couldn’t place.

“Very well,” Redwick turned to the group surround them. “Governors called an assembly.” He marched to Farlow, the two of them sharing whispers as they looked from Silas, and then to Jeanne. She stared back at the two men, studying them just as hard as they were studying her.

When the gathering bell rang out, everyone began to huddle into the town hall, but Farlow and Redwick stayed outside, soon joined by Massinger as they watched for the last of the labourers to come in from the fields that lay outside the village walls.

Jeanne had joined her aunt of the far right side of the room, sitting on a small stool, watching as her uncle took to his seat upon the platform beside Castell. Yeardley smiled down upon his two favourite women, knowing that today was going to be a good day. When the last to council members, Farlow and Redwick joined him, Yeardley was finally able to start the meeting. Jeanne found herself fighting laughter as she watched the look of boredom and contempt of Redwick’s face as her uncle started his speech, an expression which soon turned sour, as the Marshall gave a look to Farlow. Farlow could only look down at Jeanne, as she did her best to ignore the man.

The men of the town were overly joyed by the news, hinting to Jeanne that it hadn’t been just the Sharrows that had been approached about their land. When her uncle had ended the meeting, Farlow had taken the young woman aside.

“I thought you said your uncle was planning to ban the production of Tabaco?” He asked in a harsh whisper, not wanting to draw attention to their conversation.

“Planning?” Jeanne chided. “I never said that, only speculated the possibility. I’m sorry if I gave you false fears, Nicholas.” She said his name sweetly, hoping to curb the anger no doubt bubbling under his cool facade.

Farlow’s mouth formed a thin line, his way of scowling without scowling. “It is fine my dear, clearly the wine affected my ears.” He gave her a bow, so brief and quick, as he turned to leave.

Jeanne looked over to the uncle, where he now stood with his wife. The two of them approached her. “All is well?” He asked his niece with an underlying tone. When she nodded, he gave her a nod, offering his other free arm while his wife clung to his right. “Castell has informed me he is marrying today, so we have a wedding to attend.”

“Looks like things are surely looking up.” Jeanne smiled, taking her uncles arm.


End file.
